


Love, Louanne

by opossummyopossum



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Louanne Adams the Cowgirl and her two dads Papa and Daddy, Multi, a fanfic for a fanfic !!, another chapter because i needed to get this to you as FAST as possible ladylonely, fanception, finally gonna post this, here you go lady lonely ! a fancy ficlet for a fancy lady, i read the chapter and went zoom to a word document, shes from the wild west when people still drove cattle, this is only a few hundred words but it think i would die for louanne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opossummyopossum/pseuds/opossummyopossum
Summary: A journal entry from a lady far from home, talking about another lady even farther from home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LonelyAgain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyAgain/gifts).



> for the amazing LonelyAgain! i love her fic and wanted to finally move my post from tumblr to a proper ficlet here. <3

Squirreled away in Skyhold, a cramped, dusty journal lays. Within, on the most recent page, it reads:

Our Lady Chrysopal is a kind woman, but her type of kindness hurts.

I have half a mind to think she’s like me, but there’s something unearthly about her; maybe the good L-rd decided she’s needed here, so He spirited her away, gave her the pointy ears and fancy magic she has. I wonder if she misses her family.

I know I miss mine more than anything. When Daddy would go drive the cattle north to sell, I’d think of how’d he’d miss our birthdays, and how the Shabbat table wouldn’t have him. When he got home, Papa and I’d make the best meal of the year to celebrate, all for him.

Daddy did so much for us. His kindness was a warm, home-made meal, a hug you felt in your soul, a smile that’s all teeth.

Our Lady Chrysopal has a sharper kindness, a motherly kind, - not that I know much about mothers- forgiving and stern at the same time. But, where Papa’s was open and all for us, hers is more… selective.

No, that’s not quite it. She’s the general sort of it, see.

The best way I can explain is that she’s like the sun. When Papa would go out for too long without his hat, he’d get these funny little burns on his face and the back of his head. He forgot his hat a lot- so many times, in fact, that the sun gave him these real bad lumps. I think she’s like that. Her type of kind is good from a distance, very briefly, and in the shade. She grows and grows all the veggies in people’s gardens but dries them out if they’re under her too long.

I keep myself on the down-low around her. I look after her as much as I can- she’s a heaven-sent treasure, after all- but I do it from under Papa’s old cowboy hat so I’ll freckle instead of get those lumps and burn.

She is what she is, a loving soul, a dangerous soul, a frightening soul. She’s not a cooking fire for three, or a flame for a candle when it’s real dark outside.

She’s a bonfire, Our Lady Chrysopal, bright and hot and spiteful when not handled right. Burning so hot for so long with nobody adding logs to keep her going, I’ve noticed. Those thrice-damned servants of hers don’t ever notice that. That scary apostate seems to see, but I don’t trust him; he’s a bit like that man from The Scarlet Letter, the doctor who’s not a doctor.

Everyone looks at her like she hung the moon. Maybe she did. But she’ll never give bearhugs like Daddy or give a gut laugh like Papa. It’ll be a soft, distracted hug, and a gentle, worried laugh.

I’ve never been good at describing things. This doesn’t come out as well as how I’m feeling it in my heart. All I’ve left to say is that I miss you, Papa, Daddy, and I miss when hugs were real.

Your baby girl forever,

Louanne Adams


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From chapter 205 of dislocated souls. A return to Louanne, because it really hit me.

They whipped her today. I cried when it was over. I cried alone.

I didn't let myself cry during those horrible hits. I had to be strong for her. One, two, three times she's struck, I held back my sobs because she couldn't. Four, five, six, I know I haven't done enough. Seven, eight nine, I was supposed to help her, do my part alongside the rest of Ethelathe, then ten, oh L-rd, what did I do wrong, Papa? Daddy, how did I let this happen? 

She's the sun. I said it before. But it's okay to get burned now. If that's how to keep her whole and safe, I'll do it. I'll burn and bake! I'll take it with a smile, my head up high! I know it in my soul she'd do it for me, take lashings tenfold, so why haven't I done it for her? Why haven't I done it for her, dear G-d above, _why haven't I done it for her!_

Nobles be damned thrice! Don't they  _know?_ Don't they  _feel?_

She won't know my name, no matter what, and that's good; I'm not going to let her. No pain if I die protecting her. It'll be a quick fade into the arms of eternity, and a blink of her eye will be the time it takes to mourn. 

For now, until there's a need, she'll get those pies you two loved. The ones with blueberries and just a little sharp cheese on the side. Not everything is sacrifice. Sometimes, just a gift can help.

I'll give her a thousand gifts. I'll give her all the love and gifts you've given me. Gifts from under the sun, from across the plains, to the west and back. Hard calluses, sleepless nights, anything.

Anything for her, because she's the sun.

I'm yours, My Dearest Loves and Fathers, and now I'm hers as well.

Love, Louanne.


End file.
